Concrete Amber
by Speechwriter
Summary: -OLD work- Perhaps another day, you'll touch my life, through this wall of amber. And the alien sensation I get as I hear your silence will be mine. Oneshot, SS
1. Unawareness of Desire

**Concrete Amber**

**By Gollummullog**

* * *

I don't know why 

but I view you through a sheet of amber, molten

frozen, stuck in bubbles of gel, golden

your image distorted, giving off vibes of confusion.

I view you like through blown glass from a different world

where you're no longer trapped there

* * *

Do you see me? Do you even notice as I sit three seats away from you? I think. I see you moving slightly, your hair softly shining and rippling like waves of tigereye.

And still I write.

* * *

My voice cracks when I think of how you're separate

and my breath catches

as I hear snatches

of your conversation, carried on the wind,

a window into the box

in which you're sealed.

* * *

I'm the one who sits behind the bathroom door and hears people talk about the fashions I'm wearing, how they're going to emulate my, like, totally awesome dress sense. I'm the one who cries once they're gone.

You're the one who skates alone at the park. You're the one who talks to the ones I'm scorned by - no one.

I wonder if you even saw me as I asked you to the dance? I know you were thinking about something else, maybe asking yourself if it was a dare? I think deeper and look back at myself, pitifully standing in your wake like a pathetic animal waiting for its master to return.

* * *

Time stops as I think of you

My heart stops as I stop walking

my friends keep talking

and you brush past me,

a plexiglas coating sealing the wall between us.

You don't even feel me.

I curl up against the bus wall. A huge bump, and some people lift right off their seats, whooping in delight. I merely scrape my face on the screws jutting from the plasticine walls as I watch you from behind.

* * *

I stick a needle into the wall

and withdraw your essence into its holder

and I drink of you, shivering a little colder

and want more.

And yet you walk by, unaware of my desire

to reach out and touch your life

* * *

I want nothing more to do with shallowness, I decide. I'd give it up just to be with you. My friends- they're not really friends. My acquaintances- they only know the person that I display, like a shining wax mask, lips curled in a cherry-lip-gloss smile. And behind it, I'm still thinking of you.

* * *

I'm the one who laughs with everyone. I'm the one with connections.

You're the one who sits alone. You're the only one I really want to talk to.

Admiration from afar

And when we talk, you're remote, far away

And I think, perhaps another day,

you'll touch my life, too, through this wall of amber.

And the alien sensation I get as I hear your silence

will be mine.

* * *

I don't know how, and I really don't know why, but although I'm the one who's surrounded by people, and you're the one with only a skateboard, I'm the one who's really, truly, completely, utterly alone.

Maybe tomorrow I'll see you.

Maybe tomorrow I'll know you.

Maybe tomorrow, you'll notice me.

Maybe tomorrow, you'll love me.

* * *

I see you through that wall of amber.

You don't stop, you just keep going

in that world, you continue flowing

with the people around you not even there.

This is tomorrow. I finally stop and plunge

into the deluge of sticky change.

You finally halt.

And see me.

And feel me there.

And breathe me.

I finally know you

and smell you

and as I brush against you

my obsession is fulfilled

and for us, trapped behind that wall

of amber

we don't remember

anything before I crossed over.

* * *

I turn the page, and look at you again, and look down at my poem again, and see your hair rippling, your strong face careless, your silent lips unmoving, your eyes closed. I long to touch that hair, stroke that face, kiss your lips and open your eyes to see mine, long for you to see me there.

I look at my poem.

If only it were real.

* * *

**Hope you liked it.**

**Gollum**


	2. Some Assembly Required

**Concrete Amber**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

I close my eyes and think

The flow obstructed

By a feeling constructed

As I feel you watching, three seats behind

And somehow, I know you're writing

And this is my reply

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

I can feel you watching me, every day. When I'm in the lunchroom. In science class. On the bus. I feel you now. But I can't read your expression without acknowledging your presence, which would be forbidden, in my solitary world..

When you asked me to the dance, it felt strange, like someone else was asking, someone who didn't care about clothes and popularity, someone who's not the person you show the school.

I don't know you. You don't know me.

So why do you watch me? And why do I feel you?

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I see you like a person sees

Someone through a web of crystal

like through a smoking pistol

Fragments of the whole

I can only dream

of the completed puzzle

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

I can see you, but can't hear you through my headphones, blasting Sinful Absolution, Muse's singer yelling music into me. I think of you as I do a kickflip, ollie, a 360 degree turn, and I crash. My elbow's rubbed raw from the half-pipe's unforgiving material, and I still can't throw you away, push you far from me like I do to everyone else.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Your presence is intoxicating

I feel it, slightly cloying

I know that it's destroying

the barriers I throw up as you pull them down.

I feel your eyes burning into me

And no matter what I put in-between us, I can't stop thinking of you.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

I guess that's what it boils down to, I think as I write, my eyes closing, letting the wind pour over me. Why can't I stop thinking of you? I don't want to know you. I don't want you to know me. I want to shove you away, close myself off from the last person who won't leave me in peace.

But I know that if I shut you out of my brain, I'll feel some kind of loss, somehow.

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Without you, my icy bubble would exist

with no disruption

an eruption

of steel pouring out of me, a blockade.

And your silvery green eyes would melt into the darkness

and at last I'd be alone.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

I don't know. I just don't know. My feelings are tangled, like an insane Gordian knot twining around my soul. Which is ironic in itself, because I DON'T KNOW YOU. I don't know you, I feel you.

I don't know you. I can almost touch you.

You don't know me. You want to.

You don't know me. You watch me.

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You're outside my world, milling with everyone

oblivious to my Gordian knot

that you pull taut

every day, tighter and tighter around me

running circles in my brain

and driving me insane.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

I should erase that. It broke the rhyme scheme. But crazy is too weak. Nuts is too informal. And insane is what you're making me. There's no lying. I always read about those that lie to themselves, and it never turns out well.

You're probably being more poetic than me, too. Probably creating some kind of beautiful imagery that's beyond me. That's why they love you.

You're surrounded by people, laughing and chatting.

I'm alone.

So why, why, why do you watch me? I'm thinking in circles, repetitive beyond all imagining.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

A waterfall between us, I stand, not knowing

whether to reach out

or not, my doubt

roaring like the sound I hear next to that deluge of water

and your blurred image

only skin deep.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Maybe tomorrow, I'll know who you are.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

I reach out

and with my fingers' tips

I brush your rosy lips

and feel your delicate nose

and smell your overwhelming scent

and touch your silky hair

still wishing for the person

I know is hidden there.

XXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXxxxxxXXXXXxxxxXXXXxxxxXXX

Another fault in the rhyme. Like me. A fault in the crowds engulfing you. I wonder if they know you? After all, if you're the person they think you are, why do you watch me?

And my poem - or is it her poem? - has yet to be completed, still waiting for that happy ending I'm supposed to find and screw onto its end, some assembly required.

* * *

**Should I give 'em a happy ending?**

**You tell me.**

**(Hints shamelessly at review button)**

**Gollum**


	3. So Let's Soar a Little Higher

**Concrete Amber**

**Chapter Three**

**By .Gollummullog.**

* * *

One tear of ice slides down my cheek 

I brush it away, disgusted

That I've not entrusted

this precious secret to you, when really

I can trust you a lot more

than I can trust myself.

I mean, really? What's the worst you can do, reject me? I'll go back to life with my friends, partying all the time, and I won't look back.

Yep, that's a pretty good lie to tell myself. Generic, overused, but it'll work.

Now all I need is to summon up the courage.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I think I know you, much less

than I think about you.

And I know without you

I'll know myself less than I'll think about you

and I'll toss my thoughts onto

a candle and burn them all away.

Ah, written so like the style of, ah, what's his name? Richard Murphy. That's him. Probably a confused guy, like me: "To think I must be alone, To love we must be together." Four verses of repetition, but not quite repetition- more like an exposition and variations.

I think I'll ask you about yourself tomorrow. Maybe Mr. Murphy has some insight.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I don't want to be cliché

I wanna be complex, complicated.

With all my efforts concentrated

on that which means so much, ridiculously.

I want to brush away the mist and spider webs covering your personality

and reveal you, if only to satisfy selfish Desire living in me.

On the bus in the morning, it's hardly better. It's cold. I'm huddling like I did yesterday, wary of getting scratched again, getting carsick and feeling like I'm going to vomit. For one of two reasons. A., see above, and B., see below.

I think I'll skip last period. After all, you always do. Maybe, just maybe, I'll work up the courage to find you?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

And as the candle simmers

I breathe in its vapors

and touch the end as it tapers

and wax coats my fingers, a shell soon to be broken,

and as the shell snaps silently, my burnt thoughts shrug off ash

and flicker back to life

We're at school now, pulling into that boring concrete parking lot, like every day after day after day, wasting hours of my life at a time. Maybe that's why I choose not to... and skip twice a day.

I mean, come on. Who's gonna notice me not being there? It's not like I talk to anyone, you know.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Desire claws at my brain

and at my heart

tearing me apart

with every talon she sinks into me, spreading

feelings through my body that I don't want to know

a shudder, involuntary flickers of my eyes towards you

Math, math, math. I draw a triangle, and then realize I've labeled the angles with your initials, acute and closed off, like segments of you, not there except for representations... XLL. That's incorrect, in History class, as our teacher discusses the Romans. It should be LXL. Then again, since I don't know you, I would call you Li Xiao Lang, wouldn't I?

I've analyzed you too far to feel like I don't know you.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I close my eyes, with my thoughts rekindled,

shining brightly through my dark

scorching silently, a golden mark

against the black of my mind, and the candle burns

without my thoughts cast away to snuff it out

and it burns brighter, and I open my eyes, and fall.

Kickflip. Ollie. Same old tricks, same old park, same old day with the air too warm and my hair falling in front of my eyes and the trees rustling like they're talking about me. Kickflip. Ollie. Same old tricks, same old skip, same old thoughts with your green eyes burning into the back of my neck and your honey-golden hair perfectly permed and combed and brushed and shining.

Kickflip. Wipeout. Same old mistake, thinking about you.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I feel so sick, the deep waves of color filled of you

trapping me inside my mind

smelling you, I don't look behind

to see the way out I could so easily grasp.

The way behind a velvet curtain, I smell behind it alcohol and laughter

and loud music, and I decide I'd rather be sick and full of deepness

than live life on the shallow side.

I take my gun filled with staples and fire it

at the curtains, locking them shut

hold my breath

and j

into u

your m

world p

Finally. Sixth period. Last day of school... no more sitting three lonely seats behind you, reading the misspelled cursing on the back of my seat, that misguided soul who wrote 'fukc'. The bell. Harsh. Clanging.

I walk outside, 'gonna get some fresh air, guys'- and run.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I need some rest, but my eyelids won't close

they got burnt off by your light

and for me, there's no more night

only the soft warm glowingness of your hope

the candle's still burning

and I can see it steadily going

and I can open my eyes,

finally

to the possibilities.

I'm ready for you to come

and embrace my world,

I'm no longer clamping my doors shut

with an iron bar or fourteen

resisting the abstruseness that's you, my muse.

You're there. I feel you. I can feel you thinking about me.

Now all I need to do is turn around.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I know you know I'm here, standing behind the park bench you're sitting on, your skateboard lying in the dirt.

All I need to do is come a little closer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hey."

I'm not sure who said that - me or you? I've got a boiling feeling in the pit of my stomach, closely related to but not the clone of the feeling I get when I do a handplant for eighteen seconds. I decide it's me. After all, my mouth moved. I'm feeling dazed as I turn around and you step closer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Hey."

I'm so aware of myself talking. I can't believe I'm actually talking to you. That we're alone. Away from the world. I'm babbling in my mind, overflowing with what I want to tell you, knowing you'll understand, but my vocal chords seem resolutely, frustratingly monosyllabic at the moment.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I, uh,"

feel like I've known you forever?

think about you every second of the day?

want to hold you and finally smell you?

don't want to seem stalkerish, but tell you that I've looked you up in the address book?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah, I,"

feel like I'd give my life up for you?

think about what your breath tastes like?

want to press your lips to my own?

don't want to tell you that I've loved you for three years now?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"How do you know I skip sixth period?"

Great. Just put ya in an awkward position, why don't I.

You come closer.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I... I... I know you don't notice me, but I, I..."

am holding back tears? You look so cold... Should I back away?

I don't know what to do.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah?"

Mmhmm. I'll just press you further. I'm sure if I do it enough it'll lighten the atmosphere.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I watch you. I know it, it sounds weird, and stuff, but I-"

Oh, great. I'm holding back tears. Green eyes aimed at the ground, instead of your beautiful amber eyes, where I've always wanted to look.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I know."

MindblanktotallyblankwhatdoIsaywhatdoIdo

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I guess I'll, I guess I'll go now, I'm, uh, sorry to bother you, I just-"

I'm talking too much. It's so awkward. The silence. It feels like even the trees are shutting up to listen.

I turn around to go.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Wait! I - don't go. I know you look at me because I- I think about you. All the time."

Face turning red as you're turning around. Your green eyes staring into mine. Dark green and light green. Dappled emerald.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You do?"

Whispered. I don't know how you hear me. I don't know why you haven't let me go and kill myself now.

Are you joking or something? Your eyes... So intense... I feel sick at the color burning into me.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah. I, uh, I don't know how, but-"

I look down, then back up at you. Might as well say it, then you can go home.

I'm silent. You're going to say something else. There's a note of finality about your face, somehow...

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I feel like I know you, I think about you so much. There. Okay? I said it."

I'm no longer looking at your eyes. My gaze wanders to your perfect, delicate nose, your perfectly rounded pink lips, your pointed chin where your layered hair drifts.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I don't know you."

Whispered again. Another couple steps closer. I'm standing beside the park bench now.

What a strange conversation. Your eyes are so familiar, but I've only seen them face-to-face a few times... I know exactly what you mean.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I knew it. Here's the part where you walk away, back to your friends and popularity and parties and life. I knew you'd take the easy path.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"But I want to."

You stand up. You're taller than me. I never knew you were so tall.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Sakura? I've known you for three years, right?"

Good. Nice, normal conversation.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah, I think so."

I'm looking at your jeans. Baggy. Ripped.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I know you've watched me the whole time."

There. I take your chin lightly in my hand, stomach burning, wanting to press you to me-

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah. I have. And I realize something."

You're touching me. Oh. God. You're touching me. You're pointing my face right into yours. Your face I've seen from exactly eleven and three quarters feet on the bus. Strong cheekbones. Arched, regal eyebrows. Deep, private eyes. Stubborn, red mouth.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yeah?"

I can't believe my own daring. We've never talked. Never held a real conversation. Yet here we are.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I think I love you."

My breath catches, as I realize it's true. It's gone deeper than like, or even, as my friends say, _like_ like. I write poems about you. When I sing, it's about you. I always think of alternatives involving you. How have I fallen so desperately for someone when I've never talked to them?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Here's me," I say, voice catching, swallowing. "I'm an outcast, skateboarder. I fail classes and no one talks to me. I think about you all the time, and I know when you watch me, even from behind... and here's you. You're, like, a queen, popular. You're valedictorian-to-be and you go to parties every week."

Cards on the table. Your face is so perfect, from that little nick on your left eyebrow to the way one side of your mouth pulls upwards.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I've watched you for three years, and never actually talked to you. I feel alone in the hallway and my mind always goes back to you. And I know exactly what you're saying when you say you feel like you know me."

Your expression is unreadable.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I don't know how I feel like I know you."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Me neither. I just... do, Syaoran."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You've never said my name before."

You haven't. It sounds so perfect sliding off your tongue onto your lips into the still afternoon air, which no longer seems too warm.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"No."

How verbose. You're still holding my chin. I reach up and with one hand, take your hand in mine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Do you want to do something tomorrow?"

I mentally shake hands with myself, but stumble over the words. You're holding my hand. I stroke the back of your hand gently with my thumb, a subconscious gesture.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Yes. I really do."

My voice trembles, and you brush my hand with your thumb. I laugh out loud. That tickles.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Really?"

You have such a beautiful laugh. Like bells tingling in the wind.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"You know, I wrote this poem on the bus-" it seems silly as I say it- "and it says that I see you through a wall of amber."

Why am I telling you this?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I wrote a poem where you're a candle."

That laugh again. I guess you being a candle is kind of ridiculous.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"But I don't think that wall's there anymore."

My voice finally breaks. What a sappy thing to say to you. You seem like just the kind of guy that would laugh at something like that.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"No, neither do I," I say. My voice cracks too.

I squeeze your hand, and before I know it, I've moved my face closer to yours.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Time slows down and your amber eyes get closer, like a pair of suns melting barriers out of sight. I don't know what else to do but to turn my head slightly.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I love you."

The words are imperfect, too rushed before I bring my lips onto yours, not slow or languid enough, not romantic enough.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

You said it kinda fast, but my mind's totally blank now. Brain wiped. Your lips over mine.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Your honey locks tangled with my dark brown hair. Your cheek soft against my chin.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Your eyelashes meshed with mine. Your forehead against my temple.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I can't even tell who's who now. Why should I care?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After all, what else is there to do but kiss a little deeper, move a little closer, hug a little tighter, feel the bliss a little stronger, and, like angels, soar a little higher?

_Lingering, the tear of ice_

_overstays its invitation_

_varying its consummation_

_ever changing, not quite sure of where to melt_

_Its frosty touch eventually vanishes_

_sinuously winding to where_

_Your lips touch mine- and it's gone_

_Ogling our passion, the candle's light no longer seems_

_ugly, on the contrary_

_as the smell of the cherry_

_not the fruit- the blossom, flowering, shedding a glow on us,_

_defilement struck down by its waving petals_

_moving in the breeze_

_ever-drifting, ever-changing, ever-lasting, like our kiss seems to be._

* * *

**Well, that's it, folks. Hope you liked it, and drop a review if ya got the time, kay?**

* * *

**And here's a little secret: Look down the first letter of the last fourteen lines.**

**Oh, I'm such a sap. sniffs**


End file.
